


I don't know what I like but I like what I know

by kalika_999



Series: Jack and Brock's misadventures [146]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Convenience Store, Awkward Conversations, Awkwardness, HYDRA Husbands, Jack Needs a Hug, M/M, Small Towns, Socially Inept Jack Rollins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-12 16:00:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28762965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalika_999/pseuds/kalika_999
Summary: All Brock wanted was a steady income.
Relationships: Jack Rollins/Brock Rumlow
Series: Jack and Brock's misadventures [146]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/547894
Comments: 4
Kudos: 20





	I don't know what I like but I like what I know

**Author's Note:**

  * For [winter_angst](https://archiveofourown.org/users/winter_angst/gifts).



> Oh God I don't know what this is.

Brock had needed a job badly and the only one he could easily get was as a cashier at the local convenience store. At first he felt like he was too good for it, too demeaning for a guy like him, but after a few days of reconsidering that he did need the money and it would only be a few months, he gave in and took it. It was a small town, it wasn’t like there were a slew of employers hiring at this time of the year- plus at least his friend worked there.

He had been working there for a few weeks and had mostly picked up the habits of most of the townsfolk coming in to buy all sorts of things. Generally people would nod or say hi in greeting to him before paying for their purchase and getting the fuck out. Thor Odinson was usually the exception to minding your business and would constantly ramble on to him about how jealous he was that Brock landed this gig. That his father’s scrapyard business didn’t afford him much freedom and it was always something, that Brock at least got to listen to music and see a lot of locals without moving anywhere. Brock couldn't even fathom how much Thor could say in such a short time. He also felt like if he had the chance, he’d switch places with Thor any day, he’d rather haul metal and junk over dealing with mostly idiots.

While it was annoying to work there, it wasn’t too hellish for Brock when people decided that they were too busy to interact. He wasn’t sure if people picked up on his disdain for small talk, or if they just didn’t want to speak to him. Either way was fine and no matter what someone was buying, there was always some weird peculiarity to them he liked to pick out like a little game.

One of his customers was a quiet guy who went through the aisles as if it was always his first time looking and each time Natasha, who was the one that hooked him up with the job, went to help him out. He’d seen the guy around in high school, which was way too long ago, maybe even in a couple of classes; he was quiet and some of his friends found him a little intimidating, but since then it wasn’t like they hung out in similar circles, even his name eluded him. Brock was a little curious as to what they talked about because he could hear Natasha laugh from time to time, and really, what the hell would you be having fun chatting about in a fucking convenience store? Sometimes the guy didn’t even buy anything and Brock suspected that he was just looking around to see if there had been anything new added to their inventory. He supposed it could be a thing, hell, people watched paint dry around here as a form of entertainment.

Of course the one time that Brock was alone in the store while Nat went to pick up some things, that guy came in. He watched with horror as he began to walk around with no acknowledgement to his existence. Was he supposed to go and talk to this customer? Was the guy waiting for Natasha? What did they normally talk about? Brock had forgotten to bother asking every single time.

Swallowing thickly, he made his way to him, trying his best not to show any sign of the foreboding height he had on him. It wasn’t much of a difference, but it was just weird to him at this moment in time, he couldn’t really explain it. 

“‘Ey. Ya need any ‘elp with anythin’?” Brock asked, stuffing his hands into his pants pockets awkwardly. He never had to help someone before, aside from shouting across the store when someone yelled a question about where this or that was. Actually approaching a person, that was too advanced for him, or better yet, he wasn’t paid enough to do shit like this.

The dark haired guy regarded him sideways, studying his frame from head to toe quickly. Brock was two seconds from telling this dude to fuck off. “Not really. Is Natasha here?”

“No.” Brock bit out. “She’s out, ‘ad to pick up some things. She'll be back in about ten or twenty minutes.” Though he hoped he wouldn’t be in this person’s company for that long alone. “If ya need anythin’ don't hesitate to ask.” 

_ Please fucking hesitate. _ He thought before returning to the register.

The guy kept glancing his way a few times and Brock wondered if they talked before, racking his mind back to those years ago when they went to school. He tried to keep his eyes away from him as much as possible but Natasha had warned him that some people might shoplift if he left them alone for too long. Not that this guy seemed to be that kind of customer, mainly it was out-of-towners passing through that were the big worry. What was he here for anyway? Brock was wondering if maybe he actually would wait for Natasha, that maybe he had his sights on her, not that it would matter much, she was dating Clint and not even God would be able to fuck their relationship up. 

To Brock’s relief he didn't linger on for much longer and left the store after five minutes.

It was later the same week when Brock received the surprise of his life. That same tall guy came back into the store and instead of going through his normal routine of looking around, he seemed to be on a mission, going after something specific.

Brock didn't pay that much mind, looking down at his phone and sending Steve a text about their weekend plans. It wasn’t until he came over and slammed something down on the thick plastic cover protecting the scratch tickets that Brock looked across from him, then down.

Three cans of potted meat stared back.

“These and your phone number, please.”

Brock slowly took a double take, staring at the guy for a few seconds. “..What?”

“I'd like to have your phone number..” He said and then peered at the name tag on Brock's chest. “..Brock.”

So, he wasn’t the only one not sure of names.

Brock felt the back of his neck warm. He’d been left so dumbstruck he didn’t realize Natasha had walked back in and was witnessing the awkward standoff between the two of them.

“Is there a problem?” She asked and Brock quietly thanked whatever magical being was in the sky above.

“No. I uh..” Brock was left with his tongue tied as he started to punch the code in for the canned meat.

The guy tapped his fingers against the counter awkwardly as he waited. “I asked Brock out.”

“Oh I see.” Natasha let out and Brock’s head snapped up at how calm she sounded, she then had the audacity to smile _sweetly_. “And what did you say Brock?”

Brock looked between them, both sets of eyes staring back at him expectantly and he wondered if he was in some kind of nightmare. “That wasn’t what he asked! The cans went down and he asked fer my number.” He bagged up the potted meats into a white plastic bag and pushed them across the counter. “That’ll be three fifty.”

Natasha chuckled for god knows what reason and Brock watched in horror as the guy pulled out a handful of change from his pocket and began to meticulously count out what he owed. Not once, but twice. Finally Brock watched the change slide over his way and he gathered it all as quickly as possible to shove it into the till.

“Did ya need anythin’ else?”

“Did you include your phone number?”

“No.”

“Oh.” 

Brock felt a pang of guilt when the guy looked disappointed, but there was no way he was going to.

“Oh, come on Brock.” Natasha said, slipping in behind the counter to playfully jab at his side. “Jack, I think you need a different tactic to have any sort of success.”

Now with a name, Jack, gave her a careful look, narrowing his eyes as if he was processing before they shifted to Brock once more and softened slightly. “I think you are good looking, Brock.”

Natasha snorted, hiding her mouth behind her hand as she tried not to laugh out loud. Brock was lost as to if this was some sort of fucked up joke still. Was his friends setting him up on some kind of unfunny prank?

“Uh, thanks, I guess.” Brock tried, unsure of how he was supposed to react. The whole scene was surreal. He was in a convenience store, being flirted at in the weirdest way possible while Natasha laughed next to him. This was not how he ever thought someone would ask him out, and really, he usually wasn’t super picky.

“I'd still like that phone number.”

Brock’s brows almost went into his hairline. “It ain’t fer sale.”

Jack narrowed his eyes at him but evidently gave up. 

“Okay. I'll see you around, Brock.” He finally said and left the shop with his canned potted meat.

Natasha burst out laughing after Jack was gone.

“Who the ‘ell is that guy?” Brock asked her, scowling.

“Oh, Jack? He's harmless just a bit awkward. He went to school with us, don’t you remember him?”

“I recognize ‘im, but it ain’t like we ever spoke. We ‘adn’t even known each other's names.” Brock shook his head. 

Jack didn’t seem that harmless, he was giving off too much of a Norman Bates vibe in his opinion. For a brief moment he also felt like the guy was doing all this to eat him, not in a sexy way but more like a Dahmer way. Screw his corpse, bleach his bones, save his heart and so on. 

“He really is a nice guy once you get to know him, I mean it.”

Brock couldn't believe what he was hearing. “There’s somethin’ weird about ‘im if ya ask me.”

Natasha smiled at him. “He’s been coming here more often because of you. When you started out, he showed interest right away. Maybe you should try talking to him and then he won’t be so weird to you.”

“I did try talkin’ to ‘im while you were out, he only asked fer you.”

“Oh? He must be shy then.”

Shy? That guy? Brock couldn't believe that after such a bold demand for his phone number.

*****

The next day Jack was back. This time he bought a pair of love roses that Brock couldn’t tell was a legitimate purchase or if this man was about to head home to smoke crack or do some meth. Brock sorely hoped they weren’t legit and given to him, he wasn’t sure what he’d do if that happened. No matter, whatever it was for, it was still followed by that same request. 

“Just these two and your phone number, Brock.”

“I already told ya yesterday that I ain’t givin’ it to ya.” 

“No, you said it wasn’t for sale. I hoped you would have changed your mind about it today.”

Brock just sighed and sounded off the price on his till, painfully watching Jack count out a handful of change again before he offered up the bagged fake roses. Reluctantly Jack took the bag and left.

Jack was back again the next day. This time he took a bit longer in the store until something finally piqued his interest and he returned to the cash holding a pair of athletic socks he placed on the counter before he pointed past Brock. “I'd like these, that thirty day emergency food pail and dinner with you.”

Brock had to unpack all that.  _ No one _ bought the thirty day emergency food rations and he made so many jokes to Natasha about it already. He also had his brows affixed to the raised position at the alternative way he was being asked out. Staring at the socks, Brock lingered for a weirdly long time before looking up at Jack. “What ‘appened to wantin’ my phone number?”

“I wanted to ask you out by phone but I guess I have to resort to asking you directly since you don’t want to give it to me.” Jack stated to him matter-of-factly. 

“Ya do realize ya come off as a little creepy, right?” Brock blatantly pointed out because it seemed that there was no way out of this situation unless he was being brutally honest.

Jack briefly stared up at the ceiling in thought before returning to him. “I’m only trying to ask you out, Brock. If dinner doesn’t work for you, then maybe a cup of coffee would be okay?”

“Ya won't give up, will you?”

Jack looked at him, disappointment in his eyes before he averted his gaze. “Am I that creepy?”

“Well, we barely talked and then you’ve been pushin’ to get my info. Flirtin’s supposed to be a fun back and forth thing, at least at the beginnin’ but ya never tried approachin’ me and makin’ any sort of contact. Jus got yer mind set on somethin’ and outright demanded my number.”

“I guess I'm sorry then?”

The guy didn't even know if he wanted to be sorry? Brock could understand why Natasha had said he was a bit awkward. Jack had no idea how to ask someone out, he couldn’t even imagine how weird he would have been in school. The guy was kind of hopeless if he was being truthful.

“Maybe a cup of coffee might be alright.” Brock relented, giving Jack a chance. He found he didn't regret his decision when he saw a small smile appear on the guy’s. It wasn’t like Jack was ugly or anything, quite the opposite, he was strikingly handsome to say the least.

“Okay.” Was all Jack said before he paid for the items. All the items, even the survivalist food. 

Brock wondered if he was actually going to use them as a lazy way of eating or if they were just an expensive excuse to keep talking to him. Also who the hell bought athletic socks unless you were huffing spray paint? Either way, Brock was going to have one cup of coffee with Jack and then maybe he’d be left alone in peace.

*****

As it turned out, Jack had a way of surprising him yet again. He appeared back at the store the very next day, carrying a pastry box, two coffees in to-go cups Brock clearly recognized as being from Nick’s diner and a small brown paper bag with grease stains pooling at the bottom.

“What's all this?” Brock asked as soon as Jack lowered the coffees on the counter.

“I thought if you think that I’m creepy, you may not want to sit alone with me somewhere for coffee, so I figured I’d bring it to you instead.”

That made no sense whatsoever, they lived in a small town and Nick’s was never empty, that and Nick had chased assholes out of his place with a meat cleaver before, if there was any place he’d feel most comfortable at besides his own house it would be the diner. Brock didn't say anything about it though, he was working anyway so he appreciated the gesture, really he did considering it would have been idiotic to lace his drink anyway so it was probably safe too. He smiled instead, taking one of the two coffees and a handful of the sugar and milk packets. “Thanks.”

Jack nudged the paper bag closer to Brock, but only enough to emphasize the bag and respected his personal space. “I brought you some of those cinnamon-sugar mini doughnuts they make fresh, I wasn’t sure if you would eat them since you seem to work out a lot but I took a chance.” He patted the pastry box. “I bought muffins just in case, but I didn't know what kind you like so I chose one of each that they had.” Just when Brock was about to answer, Jack pulled out another two smaller paper bags from each of his coat pockets, placing them down next to the doughnuts and muffins. “And two whole grain bagels with cream cheese and spinach. It’s how I like them, hopefully that’s okay.”

Now Brock could see why Natasha found him endearing, he was man enough to admit that. The way Jack was unsure of himself but still pushed to provide at least something Brock would like with their coffee was a sweet gesture which was really nice of him. Brock opened the bag carefully and took one of the mini doughnuts out, pleased Jack was considerate enough to think he may be strict with his diet, but he was weak for these and a couple couldn’t hurt, humming to himself as he chewed. 

“Come over ‘ere.” Brock gestured, already in a good mood and a little touched by all the effort, addressing the empty chair beside the one he sometimes used on a slow day, both behind the counter where he was. “‘Ave a seat.”

Jack came around and hesitated before letting himself in through the bolted half door for access behind the counter, sitting down to sip his own coffee. Brock helped himself to one of the bagels and was secretly glad Natasha wasn’t here to watch any of this. 

“So..” Brock started hesitantly. “Why do ya come ‘ere so often, I mean before I started workin’ ‘ere?”

“I like to look at everything.”

“What we’re sellin’?”

“Among other things.”

Jack's answer convinced Brock that the guy was crazy in some way. Okay maybe he wasn’t entirely crazy but had weird quirks or something. Hell, there was really no reason for him to judge considering some of the things he did on his own to pass his free time away. Jack wasn’t harming anyone as far as he knew and everyone he’d asked said the same thing, that he was quiet and kept to himself but could do wonders fixing stuff. To be honest, the only weird thing besides the random stuff he bought was asking Brock for his phone number, which wasn’t so weird, just the execution of it. 

“You haven’t been working here too long.” Jack suddenly stated.

“Yeah, Natty got me the job. I needed to make an income so ‘ere I am.” Brock didn't want to elaborate any further than that.

“You seem overqualified for a job like this.”

Brock felt his neck warm at the observation, flattery getting Jack everywhere. Never had he had a date in a convenience store in the middle of the day with some guy he hardly knew, only to preen to a compliment so easily. “Yeah well, money, right?”

Jack nodded, looking thoughtful. “True.”

There was a quiet window of silence before he took another sip of his coffee and nodded to him. “I could hire you for farm work.”

Jack's suggestion came out of nowhere and Brock was getting flashing thoughts of cam sites and porn shoots dancing around in his head. “What?” He blurted out, slightly bewildered. “I dunno, I’m likin’ this place so far..”

“I think you would like this too, would work with your active lifestyle more I feel.”

Somehow that didn't settle any of the worry bubbling up in Brock's stomach; the idea of doing any sort of job for somewhere as private as a farm Jack owned seemed really suspicious.

“Oh, maybe you could try it out? See if it suits you better. Are you only part time here?”

The way Jack kept peering at him from behind his coffee cup didn't help making him seem any less odd. “What kinda job are we talkin’ about ‘ere?” 

He was scared to ask this. Depending on the answer he might have to forcibly remove the guy out of the store. Farm work could still be code for some weird porn thing.

“It would be as a full time general farmhand. You know, feed the animals when I’m busy, landscaping, labor work, help me repair things around the house and the barn, I have plans to replace the fence too. As well as pay, I can offer you meals. There’s a workhouse, but I assume since you are local you would rather sleep in your own bed.”

“Uh, meals as in none of the crap ya bought from ‘ere, right?”

“Yes, correct.” Jack furrowed his brows like the question was unwarranted and tried to understand why Brock asked. “I only make things from scratch.”

Brock almost sighed in relief. Just a normal sounding job and Jack was really selling it to him, wasn't he? He was tempted. “Lemmie think about it?”

Nodding immediately, Jack helped himself to a blueberry muffin, tearing a bit off the top and chewing carefully before he swallowed. “Of course.”

Luckily no one came into the store during their little coffee date thing and Brock managed to finish off his bagel, which was a really good combo he’d have to remember for next time and ate five more of the mini doughnuts without even really noticing it in between random bits of conversation with Jack. He was fascinating in a weird, peculiar way and Brock was actually interested in getting to know him a bit better. If it meant getting free food and better coffee than what they sold here then he wouldn't mind the company too.

Over the course of the next two weeks Brock learned how Jack had one of those giant Caucasian Shepherd dog’s and named it Mishka. It was Natasha’s family he bought it from and that explained why Romanoff was so genial around him. He also learned about how much he hated rats that would constantly try to get into the feed grain, and it had become such an issue as of late that he brought some barn cats over from some neighbors to help out. He went even past that part, going into an uncharacteristic rant about it and Brock had to bite his lip to stop himself from smiling too hard in amusement over how passionate Jack was on the subject. 

He also explained that there were two horses Brock would need to meet too, if he wanted the job that is. “Kasia, my Konik. She’s an older mare, but if she doesn’t like you, she will let you know. Charlie on the other hand, my Friesian, he’s okay but sometimes he’s got his moods. If you meet them together, Kasia will be better behaved.”

While Jack seemed confident about that, Brock was a bit wary. He found horses to be unpredictable at times and it worried him a little. Though he could see why Jack was okay with them, the man didn’t seem bothered if someone liked him or hated him, he just wanted to interact with whoever he felt like talking to in hopes of a friendship, and the animals seemed to pick up on that.

In the end, Brock was promised that no matter what, Jack would make sure he was comfortable with the horses and vice versa before any work with them would even happen and with a smile, there was a relief settled in Brock that made him like Jack a little bit more.

It was in the third week, in the middle of Jack talking about maybe one day Brock would like to come by and do a puzzle with him that he finally accepted Jack’s job offer, without the need to test drive it first.

Little did he know just how much Jack would teach him on that first day. It was like being the Jack of all trades so to speak, and while he expected a lot out of Brock, he was far from unreasonable. Jack only expected it because for some weird reason he saw, to Brock’s own surprise, how much he enjoyed working outside and not focusing on one main thing for hours at a time. Instead he was able to move around, get things done in his own order unless it was something time sensitive like feeding the animals, or helping fix the tractor or some other farm equipment that may have broken down. It felt more freeing, and brought a kind of energy to him he didn’t know he needed, plus he went to bed sore but feeling fulfilled and the pay wasn’t anything to laugh at either.

The most surprising thing between them was that Jack kept their little tradition of sharing a cup of coffee together. He didn't pressure Brock to go out with him, letting him have his space to think about it and for them to get to know each other outside of him now being his boss. So it made sense that after about three months of working alongside the man, Brock surprised Jack by asking him out instead.

He never regretted it either.

**Author's Note:**

> Current hyperfocus tunage: Birthday Card by Marcus Marr & Chet Faker, also where the title comes from. *nodnod*


End file.
